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In other news, I've officially graduated from high school! Going to have a farewell trip for the next few days, so I won't be able to respond to any reviews/PMs, but I'll get to it as soon as I'm back. Drop a question if you're curious about Bali. :P
Results are in - more Leia it is.
Re-editing will be done within the week.
Thump.
The ball bounced off the wall and rolled back to Leia, flattening several patches of small flowers. The Royal Garden was, as her mother would say, picturesque - wildlife making all the noises they do when about to be eaten by bigger prey, plantlife getting ready to seduce unsuspecting bugs to assist their pollination, the sun emitting powerful waves of radioactive horror that killed skin cells.
By that, she of course meant birds were chirping, flowers were blooming, and the sun was shining. All in all, it seemed like a fairly normal day.
Leia picked up the rubber sphere that could probably give someone a concussion if thrown hard enough and tossed it at the wall. Thump.
As spherical objects were wont to do, it rolled back.
There was something not-right today. Leia couldn't put her finger on what it was, exactly, so she kept an eye on her surroundings. Nothing was out of place, but her instincts hadn't failed her yet.
Roll. Catch. Bounce. Thump.
Logically, she knew she shouldn't be as worried as she was. It wasn't like she wouldn't be safe if there was danger. Guards and handmaidens were stationed nearby, ready to put several holes in intruders or themselves depending on whether they were actual guards or meat-shields. Personally, Leia bet on the latter since her guard wasn't very good at shooting, although at least they weren't quite as abysmal as Stormtroopers.
And Leia was pretty sure Stormtroopers were glorified meat-shields for Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader - in fact, Vader had practically admitted this fact once during that one press conference in Coruscant before the Emperor not-so-subtly shoved him away from the podium.
(Speaking of Vader, she always knew when he was on the planet.. or the sector.. since her guards always seemed to be reduced every time he came over. Odd phenomena, that. When she was younger, she believed Vader had eaten her guards in their sleep.
Over time, she began to like Vader's visits - not because she was fond of the man himself, or had even met him, but because of the sense of freedom that came with having less guards to elude whenever she wanted time for herself.)
Suddenly wary, Leia counted her meat-shields. Yep, eleven missing. Normally she'd have been grateful, but now, with the nervous pins-and-needles breaking out all over, she was cursing her luck.
Roll. Catch. Bounce. Thump.
Leia had felt this restless sensation before. Hairs standing on end, eyes darting around, cold sweat breaking out. It signified trouble. Most times she had felt this way, something bad - markedly an explosion or murder attempt of some sort - occurred.
Once, tiny bumps had risen on her skin and she'd shaken so bad that she knocked her mother's wineglass off the table. The remaining liquid had soaked the floor, and proceeded to eat through the marble. Poison administered by a servant, it turned out.
She didn't know why or how she was able to sense these things. But she trusted their accuracy enough not to discount them when they happened.
Well, maybe it had something to do with her other abilities, like how she was able to do things like trip Bail (she didn't really consider him her father, even an adopted one, after the whole you-kidnapped-me thing, although she did appreciate the life of luxury she lived in by being his faux spawn) into the refresher without touching him, or launch an ornamental urn at the Falleen representative's head without touching that. Hmm
Roll. Catch. Bounce. Thu-nk.
Her rhythm faltered, and the ball rebounded off of a large tree. She picked it up and held it in front of her body.
Voices. Slimy, reptilian voices. She looked over and saw a dozen Falleen, the leader conversing with her guards. No, arguing with her guards.
She tried to calm her breathing. Her guards could handle it. They had been handpicked by Bail, who was a decent strategist. She was sure they weren't as inept as she'd previously thought.
The Falleen suddenly drew blasters and killed a quarter of her guards before they could react.
Oh. Well.
Leia ran as her meat-shields bravely sacrificed themselves. A Falleen slipped past the remaining guards with fast, fluid movements. She tried to get away, she really did. But she had short legs, and was wearing a long, traitorous death trap of a dress.
It grabbed her by the arm and she lobbed her ball at its head.
Crack.
...Whaddya know, it can give someone a concussion.
The rubber bounced soundly off its skull and it crumpled, but Leia didn't have time to gloat before a second Falleen was hauling her up and tossing her struggling form into a sack. She howled and thrashed, but something pricked her neck and she knew no more.
In an appalling lapse of security reminiscent of - unbeknownst to Leia - the conditions that let her twin brother take a merry jaunt off the Executor, the Alderaanian princess's personal guards failed to guard her or raise an alarm before they were subdued and their charge taken by Xizor's underlings.
Unlike Vader's troops, however, Alderaan's Royal Guard was normally quite adept at their jobs. Their most recent failure was caused by horrible timing, a paranoid boss, and simply shoddy luck.
On most occasions, Bail Organa was a sensible man. One didn't achieve his status and maintain it for as long as Bail had without a good head on one's shoulders. Bail Organa was a man who did his job well and navigated the political field with the ease of a twenty-year veteran. He considered himself a more successful husband than most, as he was actually able to reason with his wife in most situations. He'd even won a few arguments. He wasn't as good a parent, but he kept his daughter safe and fed, so he did well enough on that front.
However, there was one person who inevitably made Bail's sensible traits fly out the window at lightspeed, and that was Darth Vader. When confronted with Vader in any way, shape, or form, either by direct contact, a holocomm call, or simply - as it was now - the Executor hovering in orbit, the Viceroy turned into a mess of nerves and paranoia.
In anyone else, Bail's reaction would be attributed to the general terror of the Sith's homicidal tendencies and general intimidating air (or, in the recent years, his apparent schizophrenia which made him unpredictably and twice as terrifying). However, Bail had known Vader when the man was called Anakin Skywalker. He had seen Skywalker moon over Senator Amidala - the poor woman, Force rest her soul - spouting heartfelt ballads that may or may not have been written under the influence of alcohol. What ever metal mask Skywalker put over his pretty boy face, Bail couldn't bring it in him to fear the man for the reasons that others did.
His fear was borne out of practical Skywalker he had known had been an absentminded man with an explosive temper and too much power. Vader seemed to have revealed a sadistic side previously hidden beneath Jedi propoganda. That wasn't the kind of man who should be anywhere near a ten year old girl.
Bail was well aware of the ramifications that could come about if Vader discovered that Leia was his daughter. There would be political slander and mountains of red tape (it did not occur to Bail that Vader, despite having all the means necessary to crush him politically, did not know the first thing about politics and would likely physically remove Leia without further attempt at political murder), and that wasn't even considering what would happen to Leia...
(Granted, Luke Skywalker-or was it Vader now? But then what was Vader's first name?-didn't appear overly traumatized or abused. But Bail valiantly ignored this and maintained that Vader was a dangerous, neglectful person who would have no part in Leia's life.)
With this mindset, Bail felt it was justified to order most of his troops to the border when the Executor appeared in orbit. It could have been visiting any other planet nearby, but Bail wasn't taking any chances.
This was, in his opinion, a reasonable excuses for leaving less guards in the Royal home.
His wife did not agree.
"Let me get this straight," Breha said slowly, leveling Bail with a glare that promised pain. "Because the Executor is in the sector, you got paranoid, and let our daughter be kidnapped."
"Well, when you put it that way..."
Luke had had a plan. Later on, he would insist that he had a very sound plan that involved much less property damage, illegal activities, and minor integalactic battles. He wouldn't be believed, but that was the statement he'd stand by.
The plan went as such: First, land ship on docking ports for other illegal transport, a place commonly used for bringing in trade to Alderaan's branch of the black market. (Peaceful or not, there was one on every planet). Next, take a nice walk, explore, hope ship doesn't get stolen, relieve boredom. And finally, head back without being detected. It wasn't like he was planning on intentionally pissing his father off, so discretion was the better part of valor in this case.
It was a nice, safe, peaceful plan, but as most nice, safe, and peaceful things are, it was derailed. To be fair, Luke had already been expecting some kind of trouble, a superstitious part of him knowing that he had inherited his father's notorious luck, but he hadn't expected trouble to arrive as soon as he stepped off the port.
There weren't many people. Mostly human, with a smattering of alien here and there. Luke cautiously surveyed the traders through the Force, picking up passing thoughts and intentions, judging their level of threat. After a few moments, Luke withdrew, frowning.
One presence stood out over the others. Force sensitive, obviously, but not malignant as far as he could tell. Powerful enough, likely without any prior training, if the way they were broadcasting their presence was any indication.
But though Force sensitives in general were rare, they weren't usually a problem, as few were able to unlock their potential by themselves. Luke was usually able to dismiss them as threats, since most were children and adults were typically weaker, having received little training to help their control or make them stronger.
This one seemed different. Not only were they stronger than the average untrained Force-sensitive, but there was also an almost familiar feeling about them that pulled at Luke.
He traced the signature back to a gathering of a dozen or so Falleen, all dressed in the reptilian armor attributed to Fallen military. But the presence didn't seem to come from any of them, and was strongest at the wooden crate they carried.
Luke's first thought, which he blamed on temporary brain failure, was; A Force-sensitive inanimate object. Anakin would like that. His second was; Force, I'm an idiot.
Once he came to the realization that the mysterious crate likely carried a person who was probably being detained against their will, he was left with the dilemma of simply leaving or engaging in a dangerous heroic rescue.
Well, he had come for excitement...
Preteen Rebellion pt 2, end.
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